


Covert Operations

by Bohemia



Category: Merlin (TV)
Genre: A magic reveal in 2000 words is not an easy task!, Alternate Universe - Canon Divergence, Camelot Drabble Holiday Exchange Fest, M/M, Magic Revealed
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-15
Updated: 2016-09-15
Packaged: 2018-08-15 05:53:16
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,219
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8044855
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Bohemia/pseuds/Bohemia
Summary: Arthur knows Merlin has a secret, so embarks on reconnaissance mission to find out just what that secret is. (Magic reveal. Set some time after 'Lancelot and Guinevere')
Originally written for the camelot_drabble holiday exchange as a gift for Obliquet back in 2012.





	Covert Operations

**Author's Note:**

> I'd forgotten about this one! Another repost for today

The door to Gaius’ chambers had been thrown open with such increasing regularity as the winter grew colder that the wood was beginning to splinter around the hinges. There had been a steady stream of Camelot’s citizens demanding the physician’s skill and attention since the first frost. Whether it was the pages hurrying in to demand another tincture to soothe the hacking cough that was sweeping through the ranks of knights, or desperate mothers clutching their feverish children to their chests, nobody was willing to waste any time by knocking politely.

So, it was surprising to see the door being opened as cautiously as it was on the afternoon of the Midwinter Feast. It cracked open hesitantly, as if the interloper couldn’t quite decide whether he wanted to enter or not, the groaning panels creaking in protest at the unusual treatment. Well, it  _would have been_  surprising to see if there had actually been anyone around to witness the furtive entrance.

“Gaius?” Arthur called quietly, his hand running through his hair in an uncharacteristically anxious gesture. As a boy, Arthur had been entrusted to Gaius’ care more times than either of them could count, and as a result had never felt nervous around the court physician. However, the Crown Prince of Camelot would rather avoid running into Gaius while completing the task he’d set himself.

Receiving no answer, Arthur stepped into the room and quickly closed the door behind him with a quick, cursory glance to make sure he hadn’t been seen. Admittedly it  _was_  his castle, and as the Prince he could go wherever he liked, but the fewer questions asked of him right now the better.

“Merlin?” Arthur wasn’t expecting an answer, but was still relieved when the chambers remained silent. He’d made sure to give Merlin a list of tasks that would take him to the far reaches of the castle, and as far away from where Arthur was as possible. But the prince had learned he could never be  _completely_  sure that Merlin was anywhere near where he was supposed to be.

Arthur looked down at the crumpled parchment in his hand. Merlin’s name scrawled in black ink on the folded note once more reminded him that even as the Crown Prince Arthur hadn’t had any right to open the correspondence. But, his fingers had disobeyed all sense of the nobility that Arthur rigorously clung to on a daily basis, and the messy hand of Lancelot had been intriguing enough to draw Arthur’s eyes down the page.

It wasn’t Lancelot’s familiar greeting and good tidings that had caused Arthur’s heart to clench, nor was it even Lancelot’s description of his happiness at being reunited with Guinevere. It was the end of the letter that had Arthur’s lips drawing together as his chest tightened.

_Merlin, my friend, he deserves to know, and you deserve recognition for your actions. You cannot keep this a secret forever – it is too much for one man. Arthur must know._

“Must know what?” Arthur asked the empty room. The same question he’d asked himself in his own chambers that morning when the letter had arrived, the same question he’d been asking himself as he avoided Merlin’s eyes until the manservant had dismissed himself with a roll of his eyes and a disgruntled mutter of ‘clotpole’ under his breath. Arthur had only let the comment go without retaliation because he was busy willing himself not to wave the letter at Merlin and demand to know what Lancelot meant – he was supposed to be the Prince of Camelot, for God’s sake, not a shrieking noblewoman in a strop over Court gossip.

Asking Merlin directly had, therefore, been completely out of the question. So Arthur had decided to resort to a more tactical approach of investigation. Arthur had termed it a ‘covert, reconnaissance mission to Gaius’s chambers’; Morgana would certainly have described it as ‘sneaking into Merlin’s bedroom.’

“Hmm,” Arthur grumbled to himself as he thought about the hell he’d face if Morgana, or anyone for that matter, found him skulking through his manservant’s room in the middle of the afternoon. He forced his feet to propel him towards the door that separated Merlin’s room from Gaius’ workspace.

It was a source of mounting frustration to Arthur to note that he had lost most of his carefully honed sense of propriety when it came to dealing with Merlin. He had found himself seeing Merlin as more of a friend -  _no that wasn’t it_  – more of a  _constant_  in his life at some point over their first year together, but there were still boundaries that Arthur was being assiduous about not crossing; entering Merlin’s bedroom was one of those boundaries. And yet here he was…

Arthur didn’t give himself any further time to think and he strode into the bedroom with his jaw tilted up in feigned confidence.

Arthur’s jaw dropped. Merlin’s room was  _tidy_. Merlin’s room was tidier than Arthur’s had ever been.

He was going to kill him.

Grumbling about useless manservants, Arthur tilted his head to survey the small room. The small line that had been creasing his brow since he’d read the letter blossomed into a frown as he realised that the best description for Merlin’s room wasn’t ‘tidy’, it was ‘sparse.’

Arthur reached out a hand and ran it gently along the rough blanket covering the pallet, a slight tingle of guilt tugging at his conscious when he thought of the plush swathes of material that adorned his own bed. It was unreasonable guilt, he knew that, he was the Crown Prince and Merlin was just…

Arthur sighed. Merlin wasn’t  _just_  anything, and that was rather the problem. Merlin was…

“Not the point,” Arthur hissed to himself, a renewed desire to discover just what Merlin was keeping from him batting away any other thoughts Arthur should not have been dwelling on anyway.

He’d crossed from wall to wall in under than three strides, and seeing nothing interesting he dropped to his knees and bent his neck to look under the bed. His frown deepened as he reached out a hand, fingers clasping around the wooden staff. Arthur pulled the object towards him, blinking a few times as a faint prickling sensation ran up his arm.

Rocking back onto his heels Arthur held the staff out in front of him; a vague recollection of seeing it somewhere before nudged at his memory, but he couldn’t for the life of him remember _where_.

Arthur tapped his fingers against the smooth wood, pursing his lips in thought. As he shifted his head, ready to stand up, his eye caught sight of a floorboard not quiteflush with the others. Leaning forwards he let the staff roll back under the bed as he hooked a finger under the corner of the board and lifted.

Every single possibility he’d already considered of what Merlin’s secret could be rushed out of Arthur’s brain along with the air in his lungs as he gingerly extracted the book from its hiding place. There was no writing on the cover, but Arthur instinctively  _knew_  what he would find if he opened it.

_No!_ He shook his head vehemently.  _No, no, no._

“Arthur?”

The soft exhalation of his name caused Arthur to whirl suddenly, clutching the book to his chest as he tried to regain equilibrium.

Merlin stood in the doorway, trembling evident in the taut line of his body as he crossed his arms across his chest protectively. His hair was dripping wet and snowflakes clung to his clothes creating a rather pathetic image overall.

“What is this?” Arthur asked, not making any move to stand up.

“I can explain,” Merlin replied, his eyes widening as Arthur’s gaze burned into his skin.

“ _What. Is. This_?” Arthur flicked open the book, his eyes moving away from Merlin and tracing the strange symbols and diagrams. The room remained silent, and Arthur was sure he wouldn’t find Merlin there when he looked away from the book.

But Merlin  _was_  there. The fear in his eyes, evident, but he was standing his ground, even though Arthur could tell the other boy was desperate to run.

“It’s a book of magic.  _I_  have magic,” Merlin dropped his head to his chest after a long moment. “I’m a sorcerer, Arthur.”

Arthur’s eyes closed slowly as Merlin’s words confirmed the suspicion he’d felt so sure of when he’d set eyes on the book. “How long?”

“What?”

“How  _long_?” Arthur barked, his eyes snapping open as he stumbled to his feet. He threw the book on the floor at Merlin’s feet as he stepped forwards and snarled in Merlin’s face. “How long have you been studying magic?”

“I was born with it,” Merlin replied, reaching out towards Arthur, but aborting the movement almost immediately. “Arthur, please, I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. I couldn’t tell anyone and-“

“Lancelot knew!” Arthur yelled, and  _Oh_ …why was  _that_  the point that was really squeezing Arthur’s heart? The fact that Merlin had magic was bad enough, but the fact that he hadn’t trusted Arthur enough, but Lancelot, who he barely  _knew_.  _Oh…_

Merlin blanched further. “How…?” he trailed off as his eyes drifted to the discarded letter next to the book, his name staring up at him. “Arthur?”

 Arthur’s anger dissipated at Merlin’s whisper of his name. The prince brought a hand to his forehead and pinched the bridge of his nose as a wave of exhaustion washed over him. “Why didn’t you tell me?”

“I didn’t want to make you choose,” Merlin allowed his hand to reach out and brush momentarily against the cuff of Arthur’s shirt. “I didn’t want to make things more difficult for you.”

“What choice is there other than the law of Camelot?”

Merlin sucked in a breath and Arthur’s eyes snapped open. Merlin’s trembling had stilled completely, but his eyes were wild and unfocused.

“I didn’t…I-“ Merlin trailed off.

Arthur scrubbed his hands through his hair. “You’ve lied to me for nearly two years.”

“Arthur, please believe me when I say I didn’t want to,” Merlin sighed, his hands waving uselessly as he tried to explain. “Please. Everything I’ve ever done has been for you. That’s why I have magic, Arthur, to protect  _you_.”

“You expect me to believe that?”

“I’m  _asking_  you to believe that.” Merlin’s face crumpled slightly, his resolve to stay weakening by the second.

“A sorcerer,” Arthur’s words were quiet, disbelieving. “A sorcerer at the heart of Camelot.”

“For you.” Merlin tugged at his sleeves, the damp material scratching the delicate skin below. “Always for you.”

Arthur reached out and grasped Merlin’s wrists. “Merlin, swear to me that you will stop using magic.”

“I can’t do that.” Merlin shook his head, his eyes revealing his devastation.

Arthur sighed, his grip tightening. “Then swear to me you won’t get caught.”

Merlin’s forehead creased. “What?”

“Leave here,” Arthur looked away. “Leave here tonight. During the Feast.”

“I’m not leaving you,” Merlin shook his head more vehemently.

“Merlin I-“

“No!”

The strength behind Merlin’s denial surprised them both.

“I’m not sorry I have magic, Arthur,” Merlin shrugged as he dropped his voice to a whisper. “I could never be sorry for saving your life.”

Arthur’s heart sank. “Merlin, I don’t want you to risk yourself for me. I would never ask that of you.”

“You’re not asking,” Merlin sighed. “I was born to serve you, Sire.”

Arthur flinched. “Don’t call me that,” he said quietly. “You really won’t leave?”

“Not by choice,” Merlin tightened his jaw. “Never by choice.”

Arthur felt his body droop, his forehead dropping forward until it rested against Merlin’s.

“Arthur?” Merlin asked softly, a surprised huff of breath escaping from his lips.

“You lied.”

“I’m sorry.”

“You said that.”

“It’s true.”

Arthur abruptly let go of Merlin’s wrists as he leaned back and brought his thumbs up to rest lightly against Merlin’s ridiculous cheekbones. “You’ve killed for me?”

“And I will again,” Merlin replied immediately, not a shadow of doubt to his words.

“Why?” Arthur asked, hardly daring to hear the answer.

“Because you are my prince, you are my  _friend_ ,” Merlin shrugged again as if the answer was obvious, “and I can’t lose you.”

Arthur let go of any lingering threads of doubt as he reached for Merlin. He couldn’t explain why he believed every word Merlin had said, couldn’t explain why his heart  _and_  his head were screaming at him to accept Merlin for the wonderful friend he was. To accept Merlin’s magic. The prince pressed his lips lightly against Merlin’s own, shuddering slightly at the cold he felt there.

“You’re freezing,” Arthur whispered as he pulled away, ignoring the blood rushing in his ears.

Merlin blinked rapidly a few times. “Er…it was snowing.”

“There is more to say,” Arthur replied, his fingers brushing along Merlin’s jaw. “ _Much_  more to say Merlin.” His eyebrows rose warningly. “But first you need to dress for the Feast.”

“Are you going to make me wear that hat?” Merlin tried a smile as Arthur released his grasp.

“I like that hat,” Arthur replied, a tiny smile lifting the corner of his lips.

“I  _am_  sorry,” Merlin nodded as he clasped his hands together.

“Later, Merlin.” Arthur took Merlin’s hands in his own once more. “We have time for that later.”


End file.
